Band on the Run

She awoke the next morning with the sun in her eyes and the sound of something rustling in the other room. She sat up in the bed, looking around for any signs of life. She could see shadows from people outside, but couldn’t make out who was who. She crawled out of the bed, landing on the floor with a soft thud and padding into the other room in a search for life. The curtains were flung open, letting bright, warm sunshine fall through and land in heavy blocks around the bed. Party was alone, though now turned on his side and with a red and white patchwork quilt thrown over him. She crept up to the bed, poking at the sleeping man’s arm.

“Party,” she whispered, leaning into his face, “Party, are you awake?”

He groaned quietly and shifted in the bed, burrowing his face deeper into his pillow.

Motorbaby frowned and jabbed at him again, “Where is everybody?”

The man coughed and opened his eyes, staring at the girl with a bleary expression. She smiled and crawled into the bed, lying very carefully against his shoulder, “They told me last night they were leaving and I think I’m supposed to stay with you.”

Party coughed again, scooting up in the bed to get a better look at her, “Kobra’s in the diner,” he rasped, tugging the quilt back over himself, “Go bother him.”

Motorbaby bounced off the bed and out of the room, waving a frantic goodbye as she skipped out into the desert morning and over to the diner. Kobra was standing out front next to a BLI vending machine, puffing on a cigarette and staring out at the sunrise. Motorbaby raced over, her boots sending up clouds of dust as she ran. Kobra smiled and crouched down as the girl outstretched her arms and flew into his grasp.

“I had a dream about you last night,” she announced.

Kobra laughed, “Yeah? What happened?”

She crawled onto his back, allowing him to hoist her up so she could brush her fingers over the diner’s awning, “We were in a boat and then there was this big shark and you had to fight it!”

Kobra only laughed harder, “Did I win?”

Motorbaby giggled, “No.”

Kobra swatted at her leg, stumbling backwards through the door of the diner and dropping her down into one of the booths. She sat up and leaned over on the table, watching the man disappear behind the metal door leading to the kitchen. He returned with a pair of unlabeled aluminum cans, sitting down at the booth and slamming the cans down onto the table.

Motorbaby blinked at them, “What’s this?”

“We call it ‘breakfast surprise’,” he muttered rather bleakly, and began to pry off the top of the can nearest him.

She tweaked her mouth and shook the can next to her ear, gagging slightly at the sloshing noise she heard within. She frowned and pulled at the tab, peeling back the lid and frowning at its contents. It appeared to be canned peaches, but they smelled dusty and had turned an odd yellow color. Kobra was already munching away, spooning black beans into his mouth with a grimace.

“Is this all you have?” she asked sadly, poking at one of the limp peaches with her fork.

He only nodded and set the spoon down on the table, crossing his hands in front of
him, “BLI took everything,” he explained, staring ahead.

Motorbaby sighed and looked outside, only seeing Blitz’s truck glinting in the sun like a sapphire. Kobra was being rather loud and obnoxious about eating, trying to make the girl laugh and feel more at ease. But she would only sigh and stir the contents of her can, sometimes scooping them out and watching with dull fascination as they rolled off her fork and plopped back into the container. The two ate in an uncomfortable silence, before Motorbaby slipped out of the booth and began to walk around the diner.

“What are you looking for?” Kobra asked, watching the girl pace across the floor.

She groaned and flopped to the floor, “I miss my mom.”

“I know,” Kobra sighed, sitting down on the floor with her, “I miss my mom, too.”

She looked up, “Did your mom run away?”

Kobra shook his head, laying his arms across his lap, “She got taken, a while ago.”

Motorbaby shifted and laid down on her stomach, folding her arms under her head, staring out the door and watching the lazy desert morning drift by. She rolled onto her back, staring up at Kobra with wide eyes, “Will you tell me a story?”

Kobra huffed, but then smiled, “Alright, what kind of story?”

Motorbaby shrugged, and stood up, wandering outside. Kobra followed close behind her, keeping an attentive watch as she wandered around the dirty lot before turning around and looking up at the diner, “How did you find this?”

Kobra snorted and walked to Blitz’s truck, “Dr. Death Defying found it, gave it to us as a kind of going away present.”

Motorbaby trotted behind him, hair bouncing along, “Tell me!”

He laughed and pulled down the gate, scooping Motorbaby up and placing her in the truck bed. She crawled to the back, leaning up against the window and smiling as Kobra took a place beside her. He wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close and laying his gun in his lap. A roadrunner bolted by, dashing under the car and hiding in the shade from the angry sun. Kobra looked down the barren road, checking for any signs of life coming towards them. Feeling safe and alone, he began his story.

*******

By the third week following the fight, the group had seen no sign of dracs or S.C.A.R.E.C.R.O.W. patrolling the area. Even their surveillance cameras had only picked up the occasional tumbleweed and one curious fox. Party and Kobra had been busy becoming acclimated to the Runner lifestyle, Blitz and Ghoul diligently teaching them how to dodge bullets and fist fight, tromping them up and down the dirt lot until all of them were panting on the ground.

It was nearing sunrise of the twenty-second day, and Party was sitting on the roof of the arcade, a bottle of tequila pressed to his lips. He hadn’t been able to sleep, so he crept out of his bed and outside, shimmying his way up onto the roof with a half-empty bottle clinging to his hip. He watched with a dull, drunken fascination as the first light of dawn crested over the horizon. He flopped onto his back, blinking up at the last remnants of night, a few glittering stars dotted between great streaks of clouds. He blinked and took another swig from the bottle, downing two gulps before gasping and dropping the bottle onto the roof. It rolled down and to the desert floor, landing with a twinkling crash. He sighed and heaved himself upward again, blinking dumbly and scuttling to the edge of the roof to find a way down. He had gotten up using a ladder and the awning, but in his desperate attempt to climb upwards, he had knocked it over with his foot. He crawled down onto the awning, setting a ginger foot on the canvas before throwing in his whole weight. He was bending down, waving his arm frantically to try and get a grip on the ladder, when the backdoor was thrown open, a sharp, red light emitting from it. Party gasped and nearly fell off the awning, but instead turned and scrambled back onto the roof. He was pulling himself up when his boot struck a loose tile, sending the piece of tin to the ground with a loud bang. At once, three shots were fired in his direction and he ducked down into the shadows to try and remain hidden.

“Who’s up there?” a loud voice demanded, followed by more rounds of lasers.

He squeaked and shot his arm out into the moonlight, exposing a flash of sunburnt skin and leather knuckle-dusters. There was scoff, and soon the sounds of the ladder clattering upright filled the still night air. Party ducked further into the shadows, fumbling around for his gun so he could defend himself. However, when the person stepped into the moonlight, Party realized it was only Ghoul. And he was laughing at him.

“What are you doing up here?” he asked with a snicker.

Party crawled into the light, “Drinkin’.”

Ghoul cracked a wider smile, “And you threw the bottle down… why?”

Party sputtered and flopped over onto his belly, “Dropped it. Drunk.”

Ghoul sat down beside him, staring out at the approaching sunrise, “Well, you scared the shit out of us.”

Party quirked an eyebrow, “‘Us?’”

At that moment, there was a sound of someone crawling onto the awning and up onto the roof, gun clanking loudly against the thin metal. Blitz stepped onto roof, pulling herself up with a loud grunt and landing awkwardly on her hip. Party chortled drunkenly, making grabby hands at the frayed ends of Blitz’s jeans. She kicked his hand away with the toe of her boot, sneering down at him, “Do you just hide on rooftops in the middle of the night?”

He shrugged, pulling himself back into a sitting position, “Couldn’t sleep, so I came out here.”

Ghoul rolled his eyes, “You could’ve at least invited us to the party.”

Party’s mouth formed a wide, intoxicated smile, “My booze, m’ party.”

Blitz took a seat next to him, leaning against his shoulder and breathing in the scent of gunpowder and liquor. The sun was still low on the horizon, the sky painted with vivid purples and reds, its weak yellow light stretching out across the desert. Party sighed deeply, wishing he still had the bottle. He was drunk, but not drunk enough to get Tyler’s terrified face out of his mind. He felt steeped in guilt, that he had been able to escape when Tyler was dealt such a cruel fate. He knew it was dangerous to regret his decision. He could never go back to Battery City now, not after all the dracs he had ghosted. He sighed again and shifted his weight, falling onto his back and kicking out his legs.

“I miss Tyler,” he slurred, waving his hands in front of his face, “I ran away from him.”

Ghoul opened his mouth to speak, when an explosion occurred on the horizon. All three of them instantly reached for their guns, readying themselves for whatever was coming. Blitz was the first to leave the roof, hopping down onto the desert floor with a loud grunt before bolting into the arcade. Ghoul wasn’t far behind her, running into the garage and bringing his car to life. Party remained on the roof, however. He figured if a fight was coming their way, he might as well have a good hiding place. There was another explosion; this one included a shower of purple and blue sparks coming up from the ground. He could hear everyone talking frantically below him, their voices raised and frantic, the sounds of their boots clamping up and down the arcade floor. He heaved himself off the roof and onto the awning, stumbling his way down the ladder until he landed on his hands and knees in the dirt. The doctor and Pony were already running in and out of the arcade, guns kept firm in their grasps as they flipped their visors down on their helmets.

“Don’t go anywhere,” the doctor shouted, looking and sounding intimidating, “We’ll send a transmission if we need help.”

With that, they hopped into Jet’s car, zipping off in the direction of the explosion. Blitz kept a wary eye on the cameras, catching glimpses of the car’s wheels as they sped past. There were still no signs of Korse or S.C.A.R.E.C.R.O.W. in the area, which relieved some of the anxiety in the camp. But seeing the fire in the distance brought an unsettling feeling of being watched and threatened. They disappeared into the sunrise, only a pair of red taillights marking their position. To the south, Party could see the faint blue glow of the city. He wandered inside, pushing past Blitz as she pressed herself against the monitor board, keeping her eyes trained on a plume of smoke coming from camera 5. There was no sign of struggle or suspicious behavior. However, the radio gave a loud wail in protest, the doctor’s voice coming through in distorted patches.

“We found… deserted… everyone’s gone…”

Blitz looked up from the monitors, face pale and drawn, “What? What did he say?”
Jet looked grave, “I think something’s happened.”

Blitz blinked back tears, her voice becoming higher pitched, “But what did he say?!” she shrieked.

Ghoul pressed a hand to her shoulder, pushing the hysterical girl into a chair, “They’re fine. They just found something.”

Blitz sneered at him, “You don’t know that!”

Ghoul rolled his eyes, “I’m glad you’re concerned, but I think the good doctor can take care of himself.”

Blitz crossed her arms, giving an angry huff. Ghoul laughed it off, going over to the record player and pulling a vinyl from its sleeve, “If they get into trouble, they’ll call,” Ghoul said, sitting back in the doctor’s chair and bobbing his head along to the music.

Blitz gave a frustrated stomp and stormed out of the room, holding back sobs as she dashed for the arcade. Kobra frowned, “You didn’t have to make her cry.”

Ghoul just scoffed, “She’ll get over. She’s always panicking over something. This morning it
happens to be her uncle.”

Jet and Party shared a condescending look, but didn’t say anything. Party sighed and went off to find the girl, following the sounds of her spasmodic crying. She was curled up in the make-shift infirmary, head burrowed into a pillow and the sheets knotted in her hands. Party sat down on the mattress, laying a ginger hand on the girl’s arm. She shuddered under his touch, turning onto her side to glare up at him with bloodshot eyes.

“Go away,” she muttered, burying her face back into the pillow.

Party crossed his arms, “No.”

She huffed and kicked her boot into his leg, “Go away!”

Party winced, but didn’t make a move to get up, “Not until you tell me why you’re crying.”

Blitz gave an angry snarl, swatting at him with the sheets in an attempt to get him to the floor. Party grabbed at her wrist, yanking the girl upright. She screeched and wriggled away from him, but that only made him grin. He moved his hands to the girls sides, tickling the skin there until she was doubled over with laughter on the floor. She sprung back up and tackled Party back onto the bed, giggling manically as she wrestled him down into the mattress. Their laughter must have attracted the other men’s attention, because when they both finally stopped trying to get the other to submit, Kobra was clearing his throat in the doorway.

It was a very strange sight. A teenage girl leaning over a full grown man, giggling. Party bolted upright, nearly knocking Blitz off the bed and to the floor.

“This isn’t what it looks like,” he offered defensively.

“Right,” Ghoul smirked.

Blitz sucked in a breath, still laughing as she spoke, “It isn’t, Ghoul. I promise.”

She crawled off of Party, allowing the older man to slide off the mattress and into a standing position. He brushed down the front of his shirt, blushing furiously when Kobra started to laugh at him. Blitz sniffled, grabbing Party from the side and enveloping him in a tight hug. She nuzzled against the sleeve of jacket, blinking back tears. From the radio room, they could hear the familiar beep telling them a transmission was coming in. Ghoul left the room first, darting to the back to hear whatever call was coming through. The rest were not far behind, walking into the room as Ghoul was hanging the microphone back into its cradle.

“That was Pony. They think a pig bomb went off in Zone 5.” Ghoul explained.

Jet furrowed his brow, “Any ghosts?”

Ghoul shook his head, “Nah, apparently someone bombed the hell out of an old truck stop.”
Blitz cocked an eyebrow, “Why would anyone want to blow up a gas station?”

“Beats me,” Ghoul shrugged, “It was probably BLI cutting off supplies in the Zones.”

The girl huffed and sank into chair, “Of course they would. Fuckers.”

Jet clapped her on the shoulder, smiling, “Easy there caballita. Don’t go chasing a fight you can’t win.”

She spun around in the chair, “What makes you think I wouldn’t win?”

Party chortled and sat down in a wingback next to Blitz. They kept an eye on all of their monitors, not yet wanting to brave the outside world until they knew they were safe. In the distant, they could hear the faint sound of an engine, but assumed it was only the doctor and Show Pony. When the heard the unmistakable whistle of a missile falling through the sky, they shared a look of panic and dashed into the arcade. Through a gap in a boarded up window, they watched as a line of bombs fell, inching closer and closer to their hideout. In an instant, they grabbed whatever ammo and supplies they could, bolting outside and throwing everything in the back of the blue truck. Blitz was the last person to leave, keeping a large wooden chest very close to her. Jet climbed into the driver’s seat and took off in a flash, roaring as far away from the arcade as he could go. Blitz turned and screamed when she saw the shack blown to bits, the entire thing going up in a column of orange and black. The plane that had dropped the bombs flew up and away, back to Battery City.

Blitz gave a loud sob, crawling to the truck gate as the only home she knew was slowly incinerated, becoming nothing more than a patch of smoke on the horizon. Thousands of tapes and records were destroyed and hundreds of books obliterated. Art and sheet music was burned to a crisp. Any sign of individuality was instantly erased from the Zones.
They drove for what felt like hours, desperately trying to find Show Pony and Dr. Death-Defying. The sun was nearing the middle of the day when they finally stopped. They were in Zone 3, having opted to take the long way round. They parked outside what looked like a line of trailers hitched together. A twitching neon sign read “Mars Bar”, nearly half of its letters burned out. Party stepped in first, the others pressed close behind, shoving the man through the swinging doors and chest first into the bar top. He splayed his hands across the bar to save himself from falling, knocking down a row of half-full beer glasses. Instantly, three burly men turned and glared down at Party. He gave out a frightened giggle and darted off between them, slamming into Blitz and sending the both of them toppling to the ground.

“Jesus,” she grunted, elbowing him in the ribs, “You’re clumsier’n shit.”

Kobra stood over them, laughing but making no move to help them up, “Will you two stop fooling around?”

Blitz blushed instantly, shoving Party off of her, “Fuck you!” she screeched.

They both stood up and followed Kobra to the back. Much to Party’s surprise, both Pony and the doctor were sitting on a couch, deep in conversation. As soon as the doctor saw Blitz, he flew off the couch and wrapped the girl in his arms, hugging her close.

“You’re safe,” he breathed, sounding very much relieved.

She nodded and pulled away, sinking down into the couch next to Pony. The doctor cleared his throat, shuffling to the middle of the group, “We’re splitting up.”

Instantly, everyone reacted, all shouting at once. He held up his hand, glaring at them, “I have good reasons. Blitz needs to be safe and it will be safer if we split apart.”

Ghoul retaliated first, “Where do we go then?”

The doctor smiled, “I found a nice place for you, in Zone 5.”

Kobra cocked his head to one side, “Where are you going then?”

“I can’t tell you, not yet anyway.”

Jet made a distressed noise, “What are we supposed to do?!”

The doctor smirked, “I want you to be BLI’s worst nightmare.”

Ghoul smiled, “Done and done, sir.”

Party looked around, feeling somewhat stupefied, “How are we going to contact you?”

The doctor blanched, “I haven’t figured that one out yet, but you will hear from me. I’m even thinking of getting the radio station back together.”

Pony gave a harsh laugh, “With what?”

The doctor gave him a hard look and crossed his arms, “Then it’s settled. Take route 8 until you see a diner. There’s also a little present out front for the new guys. Consider it a thank you.”

With that he turned and motioned for Blitz and Pony to follow, wandering into the din of the bar. Ghoul shrugged and walked out first, looking around for Jet’s car. He saw the doctor climbing into the truck, and waved him down.

“Where’s the car?” he shouted.

The doctor chortled loudly, “Oh yeah, about that. You guys are walking.”

Ghoul gaped, “You’re fuckin’ kidding.”

But he didn’t answer, just gave another loud laugh and roared off down the road, Blitz
waving frantically from the truck bed. Jet came up behind Ghoul, watching the truck disappear into the horizon.

“What now?” he asked.

Ghoul smiled, flicking his sunglasses over his face, “Looks like we’re walking.”